


Another Cup of Joe

by FriendofYggdrasil



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-03-17 11:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendofYggdrasil/pseuds/FriendofYggdrasil
Summary: Butt slaps, explosions, social awkwardness and guns, and not necessarily in that order; this is the origin and misadventures of team CFVY, Beacon's unofficially official cool kids.





	1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: Hey, welcome. I'm Friend. I've read a lot of cute things about team CFVY and felt like cranking out an origin story for fun. It's in my main fic's universe, but that isn't really relevant. The POV's will change between the members of CFVY by chapter. Anyways, hope you enjoy.

Music Choices: Noise Pollution by Portugal the Man, and Blood in the Cut by K Flay

Another Cup of Joe

Chapter 1

Of Doilies and Dullards

Coco Adel subtly watched the limo driver through the glass partition. His name was Gus. He had two children, both in elementary school in Atlas's middling district. He was a single parent, but she did not know why. He smoked occasionally, and played the guitar in his free time. He had not told her any of this. She had deduced it, from the picture on his dashboard, from his i.d. hanging from the rearview mirror, the cigarettes hidden beneath the stereo and the fact that he was not wearing a wedding ring or had a picture of his significant other alongside those of his obvious children.

Coco had taught herself how to read people at the age of six, inspired by the detective films she had been obsessed with. Growing up in Atlas, amongst the upper echelons of Remnant's high society, reading people was indeed a valuable asset. However, no one had prompted her to become so accomplished at it, or even to develop such skills in the first place. It was a game she liked to play, more than anything else. What could she learn about someone without them ever revealing any of that information directly? As she grew older, she realized most people did not like it when you suddenly asked them how their mistresses were doing over canapes; but she used that to her advantage, too. It kept people off kilter, and gave her the upper hand in social interactions. It was also vastly entertaining.

She glanced back down at her scroll, flicking through peoples feeds and the latest fashion news. She was tired of Atlas. It was such a dreary place, really. You could rarely see the sky, it was snowing half the year, and a person could forget what it felt like to be truly warm; that and the people, Dust, the fucking people were just so forgettable. They had their parties, they had their little balls, oh, and the drama. It was so exciting, if your definition of excitement was getting together over tea to talk shit about your snobby friends behind their backs. It never ended.

Coco glanced back up. Gus was taking the long way back to Adel manor, his scroll advising him that a traffic accident was backing up the highway they were on; he pulled off the on ramp and into one of the rougher neighborhoods, navigating the streets quickly and not stopping fully at the stop signs.

Gus hummed along to a pop song, oblivious that she was even in the back of his vehicle. Coco did not blame Gus for ignoring her. Atlas manors dictated that people of their stations go about politely ignoring each other all the time; however it was an aspect of life there that she hated passionately.

Other people, the sort that the members of the elite declared as being plebian without ever saying that word directly, were so much more interesting. Coco was lucky that her mother was considered a real Bohemian by societal standards, or she could have ended up just like them. Still, it was hard to break through the barriers that separated her from the rest of the world. Even when she reached out, she felt like she was simply imposing herself on people who were too afraid of her to form a real connection with.

She glanced out the window, eyes trailing over the storefronts of rundown Dust shops, cafes, coffee shops, and weapons mechanics. Snow was drifting down in lazy, fat flakes, covering the sidewalks before the sweepers came through. Atlassian patrol droids were stomping by, people scuttling out of their way without even looking up, their heads downcast.

She looked back at her scroll, pausing. One of the local stations was running a headline featuring Winter Schnee, and Coco could not hold back her smile. Now there was a woman who did not give a damn what anyone thought of her.

Coco had met Winter many times in her life; when she had been younger, she had been more than a little infatuated by the older girl. Winter had broken away from her father at the age of sixteen, enlisting in the Atlassian army and forcing Jacques to disown her as his heir; a billionaire could not enlist, after all. It was a liability. Winter had refused to play his games, insisting on making her own way in the world. Now she was a Specialist, an elite soldier, and Ironwood's righthand.

She read through the article, which was primarily about Dust shipment security and an increase in terrorist attacks. Troubling, but unfortunately not very surprising. Winter actually had the balls to claim that Atlas had created it's own worst enemy by creating such a hostile environment for faunus to live in to begin with, and oh Dust, Coco wished she could see Jacques Schnee's reaction. There was no way he didn't read it, even though he would never admit it. He would be livid, because he was a racist git and everyone knew it.

_I do declare, I have the vapors._

She snickered at her own ridiculous thoughts, inciting Gus to glance at her in the rearview mirror. She held up her scroll in explanation and he nodded, bored. She looked back at her scroll, utterly unabashed.

An advertisement for the Hunter Academy's popped up once more, and Coco felt a little pang of longing. She had attended Combat Schooling, as was tradition. All the blue bloods did, claiming it was a part of their heritage, and insisting that it was the best way to form friendships and alliances that would later help them in their careers as being chardonnay sipping, doily loving dullards.

Coco did not want to be a chardonnay sipping, doily loving dullard. She hadn't always known what she wanted, but she was absolutely solid about that. As she had grown older, Coco had decided she wanted to kill monsters. She wanted to fight Grimm. She wanted to see more of Remnant, not from a hotel room, but out in the REAL world, fighting alongside people for the good of the world. She wanted…more. She needed to be more than an Atlassian fashionista.

She set her phone down thoughtfully, dreaming behind her sunglasses. She could do it; and her mother would certainly support her, she'd be a huge hypocrite not to. However, Coco knew she didn't want to go to school at Atlas Academy. Atlas was not where her future lay.

Gus the limousine driver, finally pulled into the manor's driveway, showing his id to the security guards and rolling through the gates. When they came to a stop, Coco didn't wait for anyone to open her door, stepping down onto the gravel quickly. Gus gaped a little, but she slipped an extra hundred.

"Thank you Gus. Go pick your kids up early. It's a holiday after all," Coco shrugged, striding easily up the salt covered steps to her front door. He stammered something as she let herself in, hiding the mischievous look on her face.

Music was blaring upstairs, meaning that her mother was working at home. Artemis Adel always blasted heavy metal when she was conducting business; she claimed it helped get her in her queen bitch headspace, and Coco felt that made perfect sense. Typically, she wouldn't have bothered her mother in the midst of making savage business closures, but time was of the essence.

She trotted up the stairs, tossing her scarf over her shoulder as she knocked on her mother's study. The music dimmed, and Coco heard her mother call. She flung open the door without further ado, striding in with confident familiarity.

Artemis Adel's study was not your typical Atlassian fare, but neither was she. The room looked like a cross between a necromancer's layer and a punk rock concert. There was a macabre desk in the center of the room, literally carved from obsidian. Artemis was stretched out on her back on the desktop, talking on the phone as she tossed a Dust round like a tennis ball over her head.

"I don't care what Vermillion says. No. NO. Edwin, darling, now is not the time to be a gentleman. Now is the time to slit their throats and drink their blood from a sippy cup. They had their chance, and they tried to fuck us. They didn't even buy us coffee first. No. No one fucks us, Edwin. We fuck them, and then they thank us. That's how it goes. I know you do. Yes, it's all very upsetting, now go in there and destroy their lives like a good boy. Make sure to record it."

Coco sighed at the theatrics, caught between amusement and embarrassment. Artemis made a kissy nose into the receiver, before hanging up and groaning.

"Ugh, I need an aspirin. And something stronger than gin."

"Mom," Coco started.

"Yes my dear? What time is it, did I work late again?" Artemis sat up, reaching for her desk clock. It was a grinning skull, holding a pocket watch between its teeth.

"No, it isn't late. I just needed to tell you, that I've made a decision."

"Oh?" Artemis set the clock down.

"I'm going to be a Huntress."

Artemis blinked, looking at the clock again.

"Uh huh, and since when did you decide this?"

"This afternoon," Coco admitted, cocking a hip. "On the drive home, actually."

Artemis hopped off the desk, nodding slowly as she processed this new information. Her platinum blonde hair was braided intricately behind her shoulders. She was wearing her green and black power dress, which was as equally suited to destroying people's lives on a conference call as it was to going out into the badlands to hunt Grimm. Her mother sighed dramatically, gesturing.

"And you couldn't have this fit of inspiration sooner, love? You know I support you, but the first semester for Atlas starts in, oh, tomorrow. It starts tomorrow."

"I don't want to go to Atlas," Coco admitted. She didn't sound guilty, but she was apprehensive about this part of the conversation. Artemis's eyes narrowed, just barely at the admission.

"And where do you want to go, exactly?"

"Beacon."

Artemis stared, before turning to pour herself some very pricy liquor into a tumbler. She knocked it back in one go, sighing exuberantly before turning around.

"You are killing me, sweetheart. Beacon?"

"Yes," Coco nodded firmly.

"Why Beacon?"

"Why not Beacon?" Coco countered. "You went there. You, Uncle Deidrick and General Ironwood all went to Beacon. It is a quality school, and would give me the opportunity to build connections with people who I never would otherwise."

She specifically did not mention her mother's partner, but Artemis was hardly oblivious to that fact.

"You know why I don't like that place," Artemis continued. "And I don't like the leadership it's under. I know James, I trust James, and James would make sure you didn't end up as a Boarbatusk's kebob as a freshman."

"I'm willing to use my savings to pay my through," Coco insisted. "I know you don't like Beacon, but what other options are there? Shade?"

"Only if you wished to become an assassin or blacklisted by the time you were twenty one," Artemis grimaced. "And don't get me fucking started on Haven."

"I won't get you fucking started on Haven."

"It's too late. I fucking hate Haven. Haven and Mistral, the whole business, just absolute garbage heaps, and they're all racists."

"Atlas is also mostly racists, mom."

"Jimmy is working really hard to change that, though," Artemis tapped her chin. "He's really had the Council's nuts in a vice over it. Deidrick even has a teaching gig there when he isn't out on his fucking soul quests into the bloody void. That has never happened before."

"I stand by my decision," Coco insisted. "I think Beacon would be best for me."

Artemis studied her further before sighing and pulling her into a hug. Coco hugged her back unabashedly. She loved her mom. She was her superhero.

"You don't have to pay for everything, you know that?" Artemis offered, pulling away. "Becoming a Huntress can be pretty expensive."

Coco smirked, tipping her head.

"I want to try at least."

"Mm. Well, we have, what a week? We have a week."

Coco felt her heart speed up as she broke into a wide smile. She only managed to stop herself from running out of the room to go pack. This was going to be amazing.


	2. Chapter 2

Music Choice: Riptide and We're Going Home by Vance Joy

Another Cup of Joe

Chapter 2

Riptide

Fox sat cross legged on the beach, listening to the waves; wind tussled his hair, and the scent it carried was both refreshing and strange. He had never been to an ocean before. Vacuo did not have many large bodies of water, and the roaming tribes he had found himself with rarely made for the ocean.

Seagulls screamed overhead. His mind brushed gently over theirs, directing them away. The birds were too silly and focused on being the loudest and hungriest to mind much; they squawked off into the distance.

Fox hummed, burying his fingers in the sand, enjoying the warmth and familiarity. He had touched grass, thick carpeting grass that stretched out for miles and smelled like life and secret things, for the first time yesterday. He had pulled a handful up in damp clumps, fascinated.

It was bizarre, to go one's entire life knowing vaguely about things that existed elsewhere, and then to be confronted with them in reality. His people in Vacuo did not often think about things like the ocean or grass; but then again, they were all too thoroughly focused on not dying to fill their heads with daydreams.

A smile pulled at his mouth as he though about his tribe. The Ugly Jackals is what they called themselves, and they were very, very proud of that affiliation. Fox had been orphaned during a military uprising led by yet another uppity warlord, losing his eyesight and his parents all in one go. Then days later, the Jackals had found him, while they were scavenging the wrecked carcass of his village.

He had been brought before their leader, The Anpu or simply Anubis. Fox had not been able to see Anubis, but his Semblance could perceive the man through the minds and eyes of others; and the reverence and awe they held for the man had shaken young Fox to the bone.

Yet Anubis had spoken to him kindly, or as kindly as a person of his nature could. He quietly interrogated Fox about what had happened to his people; and Fox had told him, sitting on the reed mat in the chief's tent and carefully eating the food they had provided. After hearing his story, Anubis had deemed he could live with them if he chose, which Fox accepted gratefully. Then mysteriously enough, that uppity warlord one day just…vanished; and all his armies drifted apart, scattered into the desert from where they came.

Years later, Anubis spoke to him in his tent again, asking Fox to be a part of a movement that tribes all over the world had been enacting for nearly twenty years. The free people were sending their youth to the different Hunter Academies, so that they could learn from them and also become licensed Hunters. Hunters that represented the interests of the free people, protecting them from the dangers of the world and from the corrupt Settlements who might prey on them, giving them a voice in the Kingdoms that those people would actually listen to; it was an immense undertaking, and Fox had promptly agreed to become a part of that. It was the least he could do.

Fox had arrived in Vale two days previously. The crowds of Remnants youngest Kingdom had been manageable, especially compared to some of the traveling market cities in Vacuo or the souqs in the larger Settlements; if one could navigate those while blind, one could navigate anything. Still, he had been uncomfortable staying behind a Kingdom's walls, feeling caged and suffocated. So he had set up camp here, besides the ocean on the outskirts of town.

There were a few days left to him before he had to arrive at Beacon for the initiation. He was nervous, but ultimately felt ready. He had been fighting his whole life, after all, and Grimm were simply a fact of life for the wandering tribes of the desert. Grimm did not scare him. Fox had learned amongst the flames and death of his village that it was people one had to fear the most.

He scooped up a palmful of sand, letting it drizzle between his fingers to the ground. He sighed, tempted to lay down and take a nap in the sunshine, when he heard the chords of a small stringed instrument carrying over the wind.

Fox turned, angling his ears towards the music. Someone was singing. He smiled, reminded of a friend from home who also played similarly. He missed them.

Occasionally the musician would pause, replaying a chord or so as they tried to get it right. Their voice was deep, masculine, but they could carry a tune. Pulled by his natural curiosity, Fox pushed easily to his feet and followed the music over the sand.

" _Lady, running down to the riptide, Taken away to the dark side, I wanna be your lefthand man"_

The musician continued, oblivious to any audience as Fox slipped over the sand, guided by the minds and sight of the natural fauna of the area. It was a nearly subconscious form of navigation for him now, perfected over the years.

" _I love you when you're singing that song and, I got a lump in my throat 'cause, you're gonna sing the words wrong"_

Fox finally came to stop on a small dune, a few feet behind the musician. He didn't reach out to touch the other person's mind, considering it an intrusion as they were alone and Fox didn't need their eyes to see. His Semblance often acted without his direction, at least when it came to moving safely through the world; however, Fox always did his best to respect others boundaries when he could, and most people were not comfortable with the idea that he could hear and see the contents of their minds.

The other person, a huge boy that was clearly a giant even while sitting, was fiddling with his ukele patiently. Fox and the nosey seagulls were his only audience on this abandoned stretch of beach. Fox considered approaching him, but felt that might be a further invasion of his privacy. He settled for listening to him play for a while, sitting down on the dune and resting his chin on his knees.

The minutes passed, and Fox closed his eyes as he listened to the music, smiling. He forgot for a moment why he was there, and the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. For a few heartbeats, he could believe he was back home and did not feel so alone.

Then the music paused again, and Fox opened his eyes. A seagull squawked by his elbow, fussing and hopping over the sand. Through the gull's eyes, Fox knew the other boy was looking at him.

"Hello."

Fox hesitated, realizing he was caught. He grinned bashfully.

"Hey."

The other boy shifted his weight, his armor rustling and clinking.

"Was I bothering you? I apologize, I thought I was alone."

His voice was deep, but not unfriendly; just very formal.

"No, no you're fine," Fox said, scratching the back of his head. "I just, I heard your music, and was being nosey. I can leave."

"No need," the other boy said calmly. "What's your name?"

"Um, Fox," he admitted, neck heating. "I'm Fox."

Heavy steps over the sand; the seagulls squawked in protest, hopping and flapping away as the giant approached them.

"I see. A pleasure," said the giant. "My name is Yatsuhashi. Friends call me Yatsu."

Motion, rustling armor and cloth. Fox realized the other boy was holding his hand out. Fox raised his eyebrows, but extended a fist cautiously and the other boy bumped it with his own.

"Yatsu. It's nice to meet you."

Yatsu hummed, a friendly rumble like a mountain's song, and Fox couldn't help but smile once more. Perhaps Vale would not be so bad after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Music Choice: A Million Bucks by Smallpools

Another Cup of Joe

Chapter 3

Ways to Go

Today it had decided to rain. Yatsuhashi Daichi sat outside the hostel he had been staying the week at, watching people dodge the downpour. Occasionally, a random passerby would shoot him a curious glance, and he would smile reassuringly. Yatsu was accustomed to stares. He had been getting them all his life.

These days people were simply struck by his size and weaponry. They would whisper as he passed them in the streets, but they were not angry or frightened so much as surprised or curious. Yatsu considered himself blessed. In years past, they had stared because they were not sure what gender he was; the whispers had not been so kind then.

He took a deep breath, reveling in the fresh scent of rain. The Kingdom did not smell pleasant on the best of days. He was used to fresh mountain air and the sharp tang of pine and spruce. Despite Anima's many, many problems, he did miss his home. His Settlement lay to the north, near Mistral yet far enough away to avoid its more corrupting influences.

Shirakawago was a humble, pristine place, made of farmers and retired Hunter families. It was green and precious, protected by mountains and manmade walls guarded by the people who lived there. However, its population was dwindling as the younger generations migrated to Mistral and the larger Settlements for work and convenience. Yatsu loved his home, and feared for its continued independence.

Between the roaming bandit tribes of Anima and the arguably worse governmental factions who wished to take the village away from the people who lived there, Shirakawago's status as a free Settlement was in question. Which was why, on his seventeenth birthday, Yatsu had declared his intentions to become a Huntsman, and return with his license to protect his home. His parents and the elders of the village had given him their blessing. He had set out the next day at first light.

He had chosen Beacon instead of Haven to attend, due to Haven's dubious allegiance to the Mistralian Council. As his parents had always said, a school for Hunters should be independent of political factions, and grumbled fearsomely about the direction of the school. Beacon was not completely innocent of this, especially in the past; however, so long as it was protected and guided by a man like Ozpin, the students of Beacon would always be servants of the people first. No matter who those people were.

Yatsu hummed to himself, fiddling with the ukele he had bought on his birthday several years previously from a traveling group of free people. He had fallen in love with the simplicity of it; it was small, and in his hands looked like a toy. However he loved its voice, and had taught himself to play. His younger siblings had frequently required he play for them as well, dashing into the house after a day of work or play and demanding music.

A family of faunus walked past him on the sidewalk, talking and smiling amongst themselves openly. One woman, with tall llama ears and a pristine bun perched on her head, met his eyes and smiled openly. She was holding the hand of her smallest daughter, who was practically tripping over her tiger's tail as she babbled enthusiastically and tried to jump in the puddles.

Yatsu smiled back, warmed by the exchange. Vale was certainly several leagues ahead of Mistral in terms of faunus rights, and it made him glad. There were several faunus back in the village, and they had always been accepted there, like Yatsu himself; however, Yatsu knew that the rest of the world was not so welcoming a place for the faunus. Just as it was not so welcoming for many sorts of people. These were things he wished to help change if he was able.

The llama faunus and her daughters carried on down the stretch, pink umbrellas bobbing over their heads. Somewhere overhead, a seagull screeched. Briefly, he was reminded of his interaction on the beach the other day.

Yatsu played a few chords thoughtlessly, caught up in the memory of the tan boy with a sweet smile. They had talked for hours, sitting in the sand and salt breeze. Yatsu had been struck by how at home Fox had been, completely at ease with himself and Yatsu's company. He was accustomed to strangers giving him a wide berth, for many reasons.

Yet Fox had not been skittish of him in the least. Yatsu had not exactly known what to make of him; and when he told him he was there to go through Beacon's initiation as well, Yatsu had grown uncharacteristically excited. Perhaps, if luck with were with him, they would become partners.

Finally, Yatsu stood and stretched, cracking his back, then his neck. He knew it was time to seek out something to eat, if the rumbling in his stomach was anything to go off of; and he had spotted a ramen cart a few streets over during his wanderings.

Cradling the little instrument, he placed it gently within his pack, before heading carelessly out into the rain of the city. In the distance, he could still hear the gulls crying. He smiled and started to whistle.


	4. Chapter 4

Music Choices: Radio Gaga cover by Electric Six

 

Another Cup of Joe

Chapter 4

All We Hear

 

Velvet softly bobbed her head to the music, the earbuds in her human ears blocking out at least a fraction of the sounds around her. Walking down the long stretch from the airfield to the Beacon courtyard, she was surrounded by people; mostly human, but there was the occasional faunus scent or face in the crowd of would be freshmen. The music helped her social anxiety, and allowed her to pretend she did not see the stares or hear the whispers.

The amount of people around her was frankly overwhelming; but Velvet was accustomed to being overwhelmed. There was not a day that went by that she did not feel the creep of anxiety, the frantic buzz in the back of her mind, in her chest. Over the years she had learned to cope, as best as she was able; and now, she was going to do more than simply cope.

 _I can’t believe I’m actually here_.

Velvet stared up at the glistening towers of Beacon. She had seen those pinnacles all her life, ever since she was a little girl growing up in south Vale. When she was twelve, Velvet and her friends would climb their old apartment building’s water towers, an ill-advised venture to be sure; but it was absolutely worth it. Because from there they could see all of Vale, and in the distance, like a castle from a fairy tale, loomed Beacon. Out of reach, yet beckoning her all the same.

She smiled, digging through her backpack to find her normal camera. Her parents had wanted to come with her, but Velvet had insisted she make the trip herself. Partially because she was not certain she would make it past the initiation; she was a good fighter, at least her instructors at Signal insisted she was.

However, her self-doubt had a tendency to hamper her when she had to work with other people; which was a requirement for Beacon’s initiation. Having her parents hovering in the wings would simply make Velvet even _more_ nervous of failure, and that was something she certainly did not need more of. They had seen her off at the airship, going through her mother’s checklist once again, more for her benefit than Velvet’s.

Velvet finally fished the camera from the depths of her pack, leaned back, and took a quick snapshot. A shoulder jostled her suddenly, and she nearly dropped it, eyes widening in panic. A human boy with dark hair and a half sneer on his face snickered at her; his expression was of the deepest contempt, and Velvet felt her heart sink as she automatically stammered an apology.

“Um, sorry,” she started.

“You’re blocking traffic, bunny foo-foo,” the boy leered. “Hop the fuck out of the way.”

Velvet felt her cheeks warm, angry with herself even as she still tried to apologize. He snorted, muttered something, and started to turn away when he suddenly tripped. People were looking now, drawn to the commotion and Velvet could feel her heart beginning to race.

“What the fuck-“

“My, it seems as if someone has left their trash just lying about,” said a girl, who looked to have materialized off of an Atlassian fashion runway. She tipped her sunglasses down as she stared at the young man splayed awkwardly on the steps. “And I have had the misfortune of stepping right in it, with my favorite shoes. Not a good start to the day.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with your food,” insisted a middle aged Huntress, standing a few steps down.

Velvet eyed the women carefully, more than a little confused. They radiated money, but it was more than that. Their very auras screamed power and privilege; they were the type of people Velvet typically crossed the street to avoid.

“Hey!” the boy popped to his feet, his fingers reaching for the crossbow on his back. “You fucking tripped me!!”

The girl in sunglasses stared at him, unimpressed by his height advantage or his crossbow.

“You should have hopped out of my way,” she smiled at him, all teeth. Velvet gaped, one of her earbuds dangling freely.

_Did she really just?_

The boy’s neck flushed, fingers tensing, before he tried to recover with a sneer.

“Tch. You’re lucky mommy’s here,” he shook his finger, turning away. The huntress in question laughed, a sound that reminded Velvet of stilettos slipping between shoulder blades.

“Oh darling. _You’re_ the lucky one,” the huntress dismissed him with a wave. “Bye bye now. Before I stop being nice.”

The boy glared, muttering as he pushed his way through the onlookers and into the school. Velvet watched him go, before nearly jumping out of her skin as she realized the girl with dark glasses was standing next to her.

“Hey there. I _love_ your shoes,” the girl smiled.

Velvet looked down at her shoes. They were beat up purple converses, and hardly anything to start a conversation over. Velvet did not know if she was making fun of her or not.

“Um, th-thank you? I think?”

Sunglasses girl continued to smile enigmatically, before being summoned by the huntress who had walked past them on the steps.

“Coco, what did I just say?”

‘Coco’ sighed, tilting her head conspiratorially, before following her mother up the steps. She paused, glancing back at the bewildered faunus.

“See you around, Velvet.”

Velvet stammered again, as the girl disappeared into the building.

_How did she??_

Her eyes fell on her backpack, laying open at her feet; her name had been embroidered there in loving stitching. Her temple pulsed, as she realized she had been hoodwinked into thinking she’d met a telepath. Incredulous, Velvet gathered her things and made her way into the hall of Hunters, completely forgetting to put her earbuds back in.  

……

The check in process was swift and efficient despite the horde of confused recruits; this was largely in part of the tall blonde woman overseeing the entire process. She strode about, heels clicking as she directed confused recruits on what line they needed to be in, where their sleeping quarters would be, what time chow was being served. She wielded a riding crop the entire time, pointing authoritatively and issuing commands in a crisp, no nonsense voice.

Velvet worked up the nerves to approach her, ears twitching, as she tried to figure out her next destination. The Huntress peered down at her, lacking the contempt that Velvet had been expecting, before firmly taking her pamphlet and tapping her chin.

“Hmm. I think you’ve covered all your bases. The Headmaster will be addressing the recruits in an hour in the Joan Arc auditorium, which is here. You can’t miss it,” she gave a tight smile, handing back Velvet’s folder. “I would go early to get a good spot, however.”

“Thank you, um, Miss?”

“Professor Goodwitch,” the blonde tipped her head formally.

“Professor, of course, thank you,” Velvet stammered.

Professor Goodwitch gave her a patient smile, before some new crisis immediately caught her attention and she swooped off to attend to it, heels clicking all the while.

“No no no, _where_ are you sending them now, Barty?”

“TheywantedtofindtheLibrary-“

“The Library?! They’ll be lost for half the day, and Ozpin is speaking in less than an hour!”

“Ingenuity in the face of a time limit is a necessary skillset to becoming huntsmen!” proclaimed an erratic, green haired man in a crumpled button down and tie.

“Not if it means missing the ceremony it isn’t!”

Velvet edged away from the bickering staff, clutching her folder and trying desperately not to become lost. She did not want to invite the ire of that woman. Humming awkwardly, Velvet moved through the crowds, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

_“Excuse me?”_

Velvet started, looking around. There was no one nearby that was looking at her, all too absorbed with trying to get through their paperwork.

“ _Hey. Excuse me?”_

Velvet’s ears twitched in confusion. She swore she hadn’t heard anything, but clearly she had. Her eyes finally landed on dark boy with burgundy hair, standing by one of the columns a good distance away. He was looking at her, but his eyes were milky white. She pointed at herself, and he smiled gently, nodding. Velvet trotted over to him.

“Hi?” she greeted. “Were um, were you talking to me?”

“Yes,” he continued smile. Velvet was not used to so many strangers smiling at her, but it was a nice change. “Sorry, I was trying to find someone who knew how to get to the auditorium? And I couldn’t catch Goodwitch long enough to ask.”

He pointed at his eyes and gave a little shrug. She brightened, happy to help someone.

“Oh sure! Yea, you can follow me,” she offered immediately. “I’m Velvet, by the way.”

She offered her hand, then realized he could not actually see it; but he reached out and shook it anyways, his face pleased.

“I’m Fox,” he said.

Velvet liked his voice. You could tell a lot about a person by their voice.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Fox,” she beamed and he chuckled warmly.

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Velvet,” he bowed, face wry. Velvet giggled lightly, charmed, before gently taking his arm and leading the way to the auditorium.


End file.
